


oh, how easily passion twists

by suckhwas



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Facials, Flirting, M/M, Oral Sex, Threesomes, accidentally getting your heart stolen when you're trying to commit a real crime, established criminal boyfriends seongsang, lord save me, wealthy producer hongjoong, yes they are literally thieves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22253500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckhwas/pseuds/suckhwas
Summary: Seonghwa and Yeosang have never claimed to be honorable men.They make most of their living on robbing rich old men who don’t think twice about inviting young handsome faces home from a party or gala—if you could call it an art, they’ve perfected it.Kim Hongjoong is different.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 43
Kudos: 535





	oh, how easily passion twists

**Author's Note:**

> title from monster by dodie ….. yes i spend too much time watching tiktoks next question!
> 
> i feel like the summary ended up slightly more serious than i intended, because honestly this is just a long excuse to write a threesome, there's not much serious about it LOL. anyways i hope this silly fic is enjoyable!! <3 
> 
> please enjoy!!! <3

Seonghwa watches Yeosang closely through their bedroom mirror as Yeosang finishes styling his hair. He looks dashing, as always, the dark green silk shirt under his black suit jacket a gorgeous complement to his makeup. He _loves_ Yeosang all dressed up like this.

“You look beautiful, my love,” Seonghwa drawls from his perch on their bed, already dressed and suitably groomed.

“Save it.” Yeosang rolls his eyes and Seonghwa smiles guiltily. “Who’s the guy for tonight?”

Seonghwa hums, pulling out his phone to glance at his research again. “Kim Hongjoong, some producer that goes by the name Hong. Money up to his eyeballs, but apparently pretty reclusive. I couldn’t even dig up a clear picture of the guy.”

“Probably just another wrinkly old fuck then, huh?”

“They always are, darling.” Seonghwa gets up to stand behind Yeosang, wrapping his arms around Yeosang’s waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder. “He’s receiving an award at the gala, so we’ll figure out what he looks like after that. And then…” He creeps his hands up Yeosang’s chest, making Yeosang swat him away so he can fix his hair in peace. “Tomorrow, we’ll go get that Gucci duffle bag you were eyeing, hm?”

“Ooh, talk dirty to me,” Yeosang says, eyeing Seonghwa’s reflection in the mirror.

"For you, anything," Seonghwa says, full melodrama. He swats at Yeosang's backside on his way towards the door. “Hurry up, our taxi should be here any minute.”

  


* * *

  


A too-long taxi ride to the banquet hall later, they’re in their assigned places at one of the lavishly decorated tables in the hall. They weren’t actually invited to this snobby music event—though that’s the case for _all_ of the banquets and galas they smooth-talk their way into—but it pays to have friends who work these event halls, who can easily slip a couple place settings in for them unnoticed. 

They time their arrival to immediately before dinner is served, which means less time socializing and potentially getting found out—though Seonghwa and Yeosang have done this so often they barely spare any energy to worry about that. They don’t even spend the hours before the event rehearsing their made-up backstories like they used to, confident in their abilities to spout convincing enough bullshit.

“Did we meet in high school or undergrad this time?” Yeosang whispers, before grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. There’s no point in lying about about such oddly specific life events, but there’s a certain fun in making up details for the hell of it.

Seonghwa just chuckles. “Whichever you prefer.”

Dinner is good, just standard fare for these types of events but no less extravagant—and delicious. Seonghwa tears gleefully into his steak. Yeosang busies himself snagging as many free drinks from passing wait staff as it takes to drone out the boring conversations of the people seated at their table.

They’re nice, at least, and Seonghwa and Yeosang make polite conversation to pass the time and avoid coming off as rude.

“You said you’re both in the accounting department?” The man across from them asks; Seonghwa has already forgotten his name.

“Yeah, not the most thrilling,” Yeosang says, and gives an entirely fake chuckle along with the scattered laughs around the table. It’s thankfully a bunch of people who work more directly with actual music production and don’t bother digging too deep when Seonghwa mentions being on the finance end of the business—no one cares to hear about that.

It feels like ages before the awards ceremony portion of the evening starts. When it does, Seonghwa tries to pay attention, while Yeosang at his side just barely pays enough attention to be polite while messing around on his phone.

They sit through a couple of incredibly dry, droning speeches from the exact brand of old asshole they’re expecting Kim Hongjoong to be. Seonghwa quietly hopes the man is at least wearing a colorful tie or something, or they’re at real risk of losing him amongst the sea of seemingly identical old men. Ugh.

 _Finally_ they’re at the last award, presumably the most prestigious, and Seonghwa hears Kim Hongjoong’s name announced as the recipient of some award in production excellence or something—Seonghwa doesn’t quite care—and the man himself takes the podium. 

At the sight, Seonghwa tries not to let his jaw drop too obviously. He elbows Yeosang in the side to get him to pay attention.

“What the fuck? _That’s_ him?” Yeosang hisses, face as much a picture of shock as Seonghwa’s is.

You see, Kim Hongjoong is not some crusty old geezer with thinning hair and an even thinner personality. No, he’s _young_ , can’t be any older than Seonghwa is himself, and _undeniably_ handsome. Seonghwa notes the multitude of piercings glittering in his ears, and the lack of a boring, plain black suit and white shirt like most of the other attendees. He’s instead suited in striking blue velvet that complements his dyed hair, looking every bit the artistic visionary genius or whatever the hell this award is proclaiming him to be.

Seonghwa makes eye contact with Yeosang at his side, shares a look with him. This doesn’t change their plans but—what the fuck?

“Well, it won’t be so hard to pretend to hit on him, at least,” Yeosang says, and Seonghwa can’t help but agree.

  


* * *

  


As it turns out, Hongjoong is lovely, and an _incredibly_ easy mark.

Yeosang and Seonghwa have to wait a bit before making their move, sitting through the rest of the speakers for the ceremony and then some torturous minutes after, keeping tabs on Hongjoong flitting around the hall as he shares hellos and graciously accepts congrats from many a sleazy looking character.

They make their move when he finally stops alone at the bar to order a drink. Hongjoong is quick to put his glass down and greet them when they approach, all kind eyes and genuine smiles. It’s a little disarming, how sincere he seems.

It almost makes Seonghwa feel a little bad that they’re just planning to rob him.

“Congratulations,” Seonghwa says, putting on his most charming smile.

Hongjoong smiles with all of the bashfulness of someone who’s never been complimented before, even as Seonghwa has just witnessed twenty minutes of evidence to the contrary. “Oh, thank you.” 

“Truly, it’s well deserved,” Yeosang adds.

“Ah, thank you so much.” Hongjoong honest-to-god blushes, picking up his drink and holding it tightly. He smiles apologetically. “Sorry, I don’t think I know your names. Are you from KQ…?”

“Oh no, we wouldn’t expect you to. We’re at a different label, more on the finance side of it all,” Seonghwa answers, their quickly cobbled-together excuse sliding easily from his tongue as he reaches to shake Hongjoong’s hand. “I’m Park Seonghwa.”

“Finance? That sounds interesting.”

“Kang Yeosang.” Yeosang shakes his hand too, and Seonghwa does _not_ notice how cute Hongjoong’s hands are, small against Yeosang’s and nails neatly polished. “It’s complete drivel, really. We wouldn’t want to bore you to death talking about accounting of all things.”

Hongjoong smiles goodnaturedly. “Aw, I’m sure it’s not that terrible.”

“Oh it is, I assure you,” Yeosang says, catching Hongjoong’s eyes with a smile of his own.

“About as interesting as those god-awful speeches from earlier. We were close to dying of boredom before you finally took the stage, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa is sure to make eye contact with Hongjoong as he says his name, and suppresses a smirk when Hongjoong has to look away. It’s not even a hard compliment to give, Hongjoong’s speech _was_ by far the best portion of the program, a few jokes but mostly just a heartfelt earnestness about his journey that made it all feel genuine.

“Ah, thank you,” Hongjoong says, before giving a wry smile, “I have to say, it _is_ nice to talk to someone who isn’t forty years my senior at one of these things for once.”

Seonghwa laughs in turn, and from there it’s quite easy to keep complimenting Hongjoong, who accepts it so graciously and laughs at every tease and joke. He starts opening up quickly, talking about his music and cracking his own fair share of jokes.

“So is this what your building is like, just a bunch of dull old dudes making music in their offices?” Yeosang jokes.

Hongjoong snickers at the jab. “Honestly, that’s closer to the truth that you’d realize. Labels can be pretty traditional about the talent they hire…” He hums for a moment, like he’s seriously considering something. “Maybe I need to transfer to finance, if that’s where all the attractive people born in my decade are.”

Yeosang smirks. “You’d fit right in.”

Hongjoong is quick to start teasing back just as good as Seonghwa and Yeosang can give, too, and Seonghwa surprisingly finds himself _enjoying_ this process for once, instead of getting through it by sheer power of will and the promise of money in his future. He’s not counting the minutes as they talk, but losing track of time instead. He doesn’t have to force himself to ask questions about Hongjoong’s work or his life, either, it comes easy. He’s actually interested in what Hongjoong has to say, in his stories and wry jokes.

“It’s amazing what you’ve achieved so young, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says. Dropping buttery compliments is second nature to him by now. He gently lays a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, just a brief moment.

“Ah, thank you. I’ve been writing music for as long as I can remember,” Hongjoong shrugs, like that isn’t impressive. He mirrors Seonghwa’s touch, a brief contact to Seonghwa’s forearm. “So it does feel good to be recognized for it.”

Even Yeosang is enjoying it, far more than either of them ever enjoy these things. Seonghwa’s learned to read him well in their years together, and the relaxed line of Yeosang’s shoulders as he leans into Hongjoong’s space clearly betrays his attraction.

“What does an award winning music producer do for fun?” Yeosang asks, innuendo clear from his tone and putting a pink tint on Hongjoong’s cheeks.

“It’s probably boring to say ‘make music,’ but…” Hongjoong grimaces, “I do like working on personal projects for myself, or just one-off things with friends. It doesn’t feel quite like a job when it’s on your own terms. Aside from that… I like collecting art! That’s a bit more interesting.”

“Making music for yourself is plenty interesting,” Seonghwa says, “Certainly more fun than anyone else in this hall is having.”

Yeosang makes another quip at the expense of the whole stodgy gala and Hongjoong laughs fully, a sound deep from his chest. Seonghwa feels it like a bag of bricks to the stomach. He briefly locks eyes with Yeosang, a silent conversation passing between them. 

If this was one of their regular marks, Seonghwa would have long since considered it a success. Hongjoong is clearly interested, holding their eye contact when he talks and returning every fleeting, casual touch to the arms, shoulders, back. He leans in more than strictly necessary to talk over the buzz of the room, sways even closer when he laughs. It’s _textbook_. 

Something about Hongjoong makes Seonghwa feel uncomfortable with considering him so analytically, though.

“Can I buy you another drink?” Slips from Seonghwa’s mouth before he has a chance to stop it. Usually it’s the rich old fucks buying the rounds but—Hongjoong isn’t that and Seonghwa feels a little stupid from it all at the moment. “What are you having?”

“Oh, sure, just a vodka soda,” Hongjoong replies, bashful like he doesn’t have men buying him drinks all the time. Seonghwa can hardly believe that to be the case, though. “Thank you.”

While Seonghwa moves further down the bar to order a round, he watches Yeosang move in closer, casually draping his arm on the bar behind Hongjoong. Not quite touching him—yet. He can just barely hear Yeosang starting in on the more personal compliments, on Hongjoong’s suit, his jewelry, his dyed hair. It sounds leagues more sincere than the usual tone he takes with their typical marks, though.

“Really, you look like you walked off of a runway before coming to this lame ceremony,” Yeosang says, all sugar.

“Oh—god, I know you’re just saying that,” Hongjoong says, visibly flustered. It’s delightful.

“It’s the truth~” Yeosang says, voice light and teasing.

Seonghwa doesn’t quite catch what Hongjoong says next that makes Yeosang laugh, but he _does_ hear Yeosang’s fit of giggles—a sweet light sound, not the fake chuckle he usually forces out for these men—and watches Yeosang casually place his hand on Hongjoong’s chest as he curls forward with laughter. Hongjoong’s cheeks pink lightly at the contact and—god, Yeosang’s good at this. 

Something hot twists in Seonghwa’s stomach.

Hongjoong’s looking at Yeosang like he’s already wrapped all the way around his finger when Seonghwa returns, and there’s a palpable tension in the air. It’s unsurprising—Yeosang tends to do that to people.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong says as he accepts the drink, teeth shining behind his smile. His eyes stay on Seonghwa as he takes a careful sip, throat working as he swallows and not looking away even when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Seonghwa resists the strange urge to shrink under his gaze.

Hongjoong’s eyes stray to the glass in Seonghwa’s hand, where he finally catches sight of the ring sitting on his fourth finger. A white gold band, simple but polished so well as to be almost blindingly reflective. A sharp eyebrow lifts. “Married?”

“Engaged,” Seonghwa clarifies, a small smile blooming onto his face. He reigns himself in from regaling Hongjoong with the story of proposing.

“Oh,” Hongjoong says. There’s a flash of confusion, maybe a touch of hurt on his face that he covers up well with a polite smile and a swig of his drink. “Congrats! Will the lucky person be joining you tonight?”

“Mm, he is,” Seonghwa says, laying a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder, who fishes beneath his collar to grab the simple chain necklace he wears, a matching ring dangling from it.

“Ah, congrats to you both, then,” Hongjoong says. He’s smooth, not letting any more emotions mar his face.

Yeosang glances at Seonghwa, an eyebrow raised. Seonghwa knows what he’s asking, and gives a barely perceptible nod in response. 

“We have… a lot of affection to share, though,” Yeosang speaks up, smiling coquettishly and casually laying a hand on Hongjoong’s bicep. It’s his usual trick, but there’s something more… earnest in it this time. 

“Oh,” Hongjoong repeats, and Seonghwa nods, confirming Yeosang’s words. Hongjoong seems to consider the words for a moment, tongue flitting out to wet his lips seemingly subconsciously. Seonghwa’s eyes follow the movement, mesmerized. “I… see.”

There’s a moment of tense silence, a practical stare-down, before Seonghwa finally breaks it and steps closer, in Hongjoong’s space once more. 

“Hongjoong, you mentioned your art collection…” He puts a gentle hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Would you indulge us with a private showing?”

“We _love_ fine art,” Yeosang’s voice is a whisper against Hongjoong’s ear as he leans in. The line is more silly than sexual, but the way he purrs them makes Hongjoong shiver. Seonghwa has to suppress a shiver of his own, and he wasn’t even the target of it.

Hongjoong’s gaze is heavy lidded as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Let me call a taxi.”

  


* * *

  


The taxi ride is blessedly short, enough that the tension doesn’t become completely unbearable as they continue to chat idly. Seonghwa’s mind is everywhere except the conversation at hand anyways, so he’s thankful once they’re walking into Hongjoong’s condo.

It’s a pretty big place in a trendy neighborhood where space is always at a premium, clear evidence of the kind of money Hongjoong must be making as some hotshot producer. It’s not particularly cluttered, but there _is_ art on nearly every wall, just as Hongjoong said. It’s quite the variety: paintings, photography prints, tapestries. Despite that, the collection is somehow cohesive, obviously well curated.

Seonghwa doesn’t notice much more than that—at this point he’s usually analyzing every corner of the place to work out any necessary contingency plans in the event things go belly-up, but right now he can barely pay attention to anything other than the line of Hongjoong’s body under his well-tailored velvet suit.

“Would you like a drink?” Hongjoong asks, playing the part of polite host. As if they weren’t here because of a _blatant_ proposition.

Seonghwa meets Yeosang’s eyes. This is usually the point of the evening where they get to work, accepting the offer of a drink and just barely sipping it (or surreptitiously discarding it into a potted plant) but making sure their host’s glass stays full until he’s drank himself stupid enough to pass out. Then, Yeosang and Seonghwa can take their leave—relieving their host of his valuables on the way. 

If you could call it an art, they’ve perfected it.

A silent conversation passes in the moment Seonghwa holds Yeosang’s gaze. The decision is made.

“No, thank you,” Yeosang says, and the slight smile on his face when he approaches Hongjoong is real, a far cry from the saccharine sweet face he uses on their typical targets. The hand he uses to cup Hongjoong’s chin is gentle, and so is his voice when he asks, “Is this okay?”

Hongjoong nods, and Seonghwa isn’t sure who closes the gap but he’s suddenly watching his fiancé kiss another man and the feeling that boils up in his guts over it isn’t even _close_ to jealousy. They start careful, a little hesitant as Yeosang tilts Hongjoong’s head for a better angle. Seonghwa feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience as he watches them grow bolder, as he hears Yeosang’s grunt when Hongjoong nips at his lip. 

“ _God_ , you’re pretty,” Hongjoong breathes out when Yeosang pulls back for a moment, before quickly diving back in and moving to tangle his hands in Yeosang’s hair. Yeosang twists one hand in the lapels of Hongjoong’s jacket, still unfortunately on.

He reaches his other hand out blindly to beckon Seonghwa closer, groaning into Hongjoong’s mouth once Seonghwa finally remembers how to move his damn legs and molds his front against Yeosang’s back. He kisses delicately at Yeosang’s neck.

This time when Yeosang pulls away, Hongjoong’s sharp gaze is turned to Seonghwa. Yeosang shifts closer to Hongjoong’s side, allowing room for Seonghwa to press closer and _finally_ catch Hongjoong’s lips with his own. He doesn’t bother with the care Yeosang showed, the kiss going openmouthed and filthy immediately. He can hear Yeosang’s sharp inhale of breath as he watches.

Seonghwa barely has a second to catch his breath once Hongjoong pulls away, as Yeosang presses in to kiss him. It’s a comforting bit of familiarity as they fall easily into it. He’s nearly panting when he pulls away.

“Should I show you the bedroom?” Hongjoong asks.

“Is that where your art collection is?” Yeosang asks, straight face betraying nothing.

There's a beat of silence before Hongjoong is laughing incredulously, and Seonghwa can’t help his own laugh, though he rolls his eyes at how pleased Yeosang looks with himself.

“Mmhm, that’s where _all_ my favorite pieces are,” Hongjoong plays along once his laughter dies down, a promise in his words as he leads them down a hall to a large bedroom. 

It's more cluttered than the living room they started in, and Hongjoong quickly kicks a pile of clothes under his bed. The bed itself is a bit excessive for just one person; it’s at least the size of what Seonghwa and Yeosang share in their apartment, if not bigger.

Seonghwa doesn't notice much else about Hongjoong's bedroom except the continuing trend of art on the walls, as Yeosang tugs at the sleeves of his jacket and Hongjoong pushes him towards the bed. It's a fevered push and pull as they all fall into Hongjoong's bed, carelessly shedding expensive shirts and once-pressed slacks.

Hongjoong ends up nearly naked in Seonghwa's equally-undressed lap during the tangle and shove of limbs. Seonghwa just watches him for a moment, appreciating his sharp features and the arousal clear in his dark eyes, before Hongjoong leans in again. He connects their lips bruisingly, pretty mouth sliding against Seonghwa's sloppily before he’s pressing his tongue forward for a taste. Yeosang is close at their sides, his hands on Hongjoong as he bites marks into Seonghwa’s collarbones and it’s—it’s a lot. Two mouths on him, four hands feeling and pushing and pulling… It's even more when Hongjoong needily rocks in his lap. Seonghwa has to pull away from Hongjoong’s kiss to catch his breath.

Hongjoong kisses down the column of his neck in the meantime, meeting Yeosang where he's sucking a mark against Seonghwa's chest and catching his lips for a moment before continuing down Seonghwa’s stomach, moving further down his body.

“Oh,” Seonghwa breathes out, once he realizes what Hongjoong is trying to do. Hongjoong does look up then, meeting Seonghwa’s eyes until he nods in assent to continue.

“So eager, Hongjoongie…” Yeosang teases, but still helps Hongjoong tug Seonghwa’s boxers off. Hongjoong kneels between his legs, and Seonghwa can only watch, awed, when Hongjoong takes him into his mouth with no preamble. He drops his head back against the headboard for a moment, overwhelmed.

“ _Ah_ , fuck,” Seonghwa grunts out, forcing his head back upright so he can watch. Yeosang kneels behind Hongjoong, one hand on Hongjoong’s slim waist and the other trailing up his chest. His mouth is busy kissing wetly at Hongjoong’s neck, and he’s beautiful—they’re so gorgeous together. The added visual of Seonghwa’s cock disappearing past Hongjoong’s pink lips is enough to make Seonghwa feel lightheaded.

“Choke on it, he loves that,” Yeosang murmurs into Hongjoong’s ear, hands dancing teasingly up his sides, “I think it strokes his ego.”

“Oh will you _stop_ —” Seonghwa’s attempt to admonish is cut off with a moan ripped from his chest as Hongjoong hums what might be a laugh around his mouthful and lets Yeosang guide his head down further. He chokes and sputters but makes no attempt to pull off. There’s a white hot coil in Seonghwa’s stomach.

“Good,” Yeosang coos, stroking down Hongjoong’s back before returning a hand to his hair, guiding the bob of his head. “You take him so well. Isn’t his cock perfect? I bet it fills your mouth up just right.”

That makes Hongjoong whine, and Seonghwa has to twist a hand in the sheets to ground himself. He reaches his other hand out for Yeosang, who takes it and holds it tightly.

“So good,” Yeosang continues, leaning in closer to whisper more encouragements in Hongjoong’s ear.

Yeosang releases Seonghwa’s hand to instead slip around Hongjoong and wrap a hand around his cock, stroking him slow and making him groan. That doesn’t deter Hongjoong from his ministrations at Seonghwa’s cock, and he looks up at Seonghwa through his lashes before swirling his tongue sinfully at the head. Seonghwa swears under his breath.

“Cute,” Yeosang says. He must’ve done something to Hongjoong, who whines around Seonghwa’s cock. “Hongjoongie, can I fuck you?”

Hongjoong chokes again, sputtering around Seonghwa’s cock and needing to pull off. Seonghwa has long since gotten used to Yeosang’s blunt words, but Hongjoong clearly wasn’t expecting the question.

“Or we can do something else, it’s up to you,” Yeosang continues, soothing a hand up Hongjoong’s back.

“No,” Hongjoong says, voice already wrecked, “I want you to fuck me.”

Yeosang smiles, and scoots over to press kisses along Seonghwa’s jaw as Hongjoong moves to riffle through his nightstand drawer.

They lay Hongjoong out on the soft sheets once he’s retrieved lube and condoms, immediately descending upon him like predators on prey, though Hongjoong looks _nothing_ of prey. He’s flushed all the way down his chest and panting, but his eyes are sharp as they return Seonghwa’s gaze just as intensely. It’s only broken when Yeosang captures his lips again, hand moving down Hongjoong’s chest torturously slow.

Seonghwa takes it upon himself to pop open the lube, settling between Hongjoong’s legs and drizzling it over his fingers. The first press of Seonghwa's fingers to his hole makes Hongjoong tense, and Seonghwa waits patiently for him to calm again. Relaxed, and with Yeosang licking sloppily into his mouth, Hongjoong takes Seonghwa’s fingers easily. Seonghwa hikes one of Hongjoong’s legs up higher so he can press kisses along the inside of his thighs.

Hongjoong is rocking back on three of Seonghwa’s fingers not long after, whining into Yeosang’s mouth with it. Seonghwa is torn between watching his fingers disappear so easily inside of Hongjoong or watching Yeosang kiss him filthily—the two of them really make quite the sight.

“Ready?” Seonghwa says, slowly pulling his fingers from Hongjoong’s hole and watching the obscene clench of him.

“God, _yes_ , I’ve _been_ ready,” Hongjoong says, lips bruised and spit slick from Yeosang’s attention.

“Mm, he’s an impatient one,” Yeosang teases, and Hongjoong makes a vaguely offended noise from next to him.

“Let’s not keep him waiting then, darling.”

It takes a moment of rearranging before Seonghwa is once again sitting against the headboard, knees spread with Hongjoong on his back between them. His view is glorious, a perfect sightline to where Yeosang kneels between Hongjoong’s legs and rolls on a condom before slicking lube over himself. He can watch carefully as Yeosang slowly pushes in, Hongjoong’s head lolling back against Seonghwa as he moans with it, taking a minute to relax before he urges Yeosang on.

The looks of pleasure painted on both Yeosang and Hongjoong’s faces as Yeosang starts his hips into a rhythm is delicious, and Seonghwa files it away in his brain. Each thrust presses Hongjoong back against Seonghwa.

“He takes you so well, my love,” Seonghwa murmurs, carding a hand through Hongjoong’s messy hair.

“ _God_ , he does,” Yeosang grunts, his grip visibly tightening on Hongjoong’s thighs. Hongjoong whines, his noises getting delightfully louder as Yeosang fucks into him.

“Do you feel good, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asks.

“ _Yes_ ,” Hongjoong gasps out.

“Mm, I’m sure. I know _just_ how good Yeosangie feels...” Seonghwa continues, and one of Hongjoong’s hands moves to cling desperately at Seonghwa. “You like being filled up, huh?”

Hongjoong just nods, a steady staccato of moans leaving his mouth with every thrust. Seonghwa reaches down to wrap a hand around Hongjoong’s cock, making him cry out even louder.

“ _Hah_ , wait,” Hongjoong pants out, and Seonghwa pulls his hand away. Yeosang stops in his movements, too. “I want—I want to turn over.”

“Yeah, of course,” Seonghwa says.

Hongjoong whines when Yeosang pulls out, but lets them both help him turn over onto his knees. His hands are braced on either side of Seonghwa’s hips, and he sighs when Yeosang sinks back in, quickly working back up to a rhythm.

Hongjoong leaves a few wet kisses on Seonghwa’s stomach before lowering his mouth around Seonghwa’s neglected cock, and Seonghwa swears under his breath. He has to resist the urge to tip his head back as Hongjoong swallows around him, desperate to watch the scene before him. Hongjoong’s body, beautifully glistening with sweat as he rocks back against Yeosang, who’s flushed from his face all the way down to where the engagement ring on his necklace hangs at his chest. His sweaty bangs are stuck to his forehead and hanging past his eyes, but he's gorgeous nonetheless—or rather, he's _especially_ gorgeous like that. It’d be a shame to miss any moment of it.

He can tell when Hongjoong is close, when he has to pull off of Seonghwa’s cock and just clings tightly to Seonghwa’s hips instead, panting wet against the skin of his stomach. His breaths speed up too, moans sounding the slightest bit more desperate.

“Close, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa runs a hand through Hongjoong’s damp hair, feels him nod frantically. “Mm… Yeosang’s gonna make you feel so good.”

Seonghwa watches as Yeosang leans down to press his chest to Hongjoong’s sweaty back, reaching around to stroke him sloppily in time with his thrusts. 

“I’ve got you,” Yeosang murmurs against Hongjoong’s sweaty skin.

With that, Hongjoong sobs out a few garbled noises that could be a name, body going taut and fingers digging almost painfully into Seonghwa’s thighs as he comes. He’s so pretty, face absolutely blissed out with his orgasm.

Yeosang fucks him through it and follows him over the edge just a moment later, hips stuttering to halt in Hongjoong as he bites out a mouthful of curses, music to Seonghwa’s ears. Seonghwa has to brace Hongjoong to keep him from slamming forward into Seonghwa’s stomach when his arms go dangerously shaky in the aftermath.

“Holy shit,” Yeosang sighs out.

The two of them are such a sight, sweaty and delightfully fucked out. Seonghwa is painfully turned on, a little too aware of his aching cock as Yeosang and Hongjoong catch their breath, slowly starting to move again. Yeosang pulls out after another moment, standing on shaky legs to go dispose of the condom. 

Hongjoong just flops over to lay at Seonghwa’s side, but blessedly returns his attention to Seonghwa’s cock, stroking him purposefully. Just the contact makes Seonghwa groan, ridiculously on edge from watching, despite not being touched for some time. The visual of Hongjoong’s delicate hand and neatly painted nails around him does not help.

“Enjoy the show?” Hongjoong asks, teasing even after all that.

Seonghwa can’t lie, sighs out his words on an upstroke of Hongjoong’s hand. “Very much, yes.”

When Yeosang returns, winded but vibrant in the afterglow of his orgasm, he kneels between Seonghwa’s legs to take over, wrapping a well-practiced mouth around his cock. Seonghwa’s breaths go shallow in his lungs. Hongjoong keeps his hand there, stroking when Yeosang doesn’t go all the way down and leaving wet kisses against Seonghwa’s chest. 

Yeosang knows what Seonghwa likes well, and his expertise plus the overwhelming sensation of them focused fully on him has Seonghwa tipping over the edge just moments later, moaning out as Yeosang and Hongjoong work him through his orgasm. Yeosang swallows some, but pulls off to take most of Seonghwa’s come across his lips and cheeks, the way he knows Seonghwa likes. Seonghwa groans appreciatively at the sight.

Hongjoong sits up to press a quick kiss to Seonghwa’s lips before meeting Yeosang’s, a filthy press of come and saliva as their tongues slide together. Seonghwa’s dick gives a valiant twitch of interest.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa groans, moving to flop on his back. “You’re going to kill me.”

They take a few minutes to just lay bonelessly in Hongjoong’s bed, before Hongjoong stands and stretches his arms over his head. His back cracks satisfyingly. “C’mon, I’ll show you guys to the bathroom so we can clean up.”

Seonghwa grunts as he stands, tugging Yeosang along with him to Hongjoong’s ensuite bathroom. It’s a little awkward as they clean up, wiping themselves off with damp washcloths that Hongjoong offered. Seonghwa just isn’t quite sure what to say. He’s confident when it’s him and Yeosang working the routine they’ve perfected, but that routine _never_ involves… this. He’s a bit lost on the post-threesome etiquette. Especially with the added complication of their original plan to literally _rob_ Hongjoong—part of Seonghwa suddenly feels bad about it.

He’s saved from his thoughts when Hongjoong speaks up. “Um... do you two want to stay the night? You’re certainly free to, if you’d like.”

Yeosang meets Seonghwa’s eyes, and Yeosang makes the call a moment later, nodding sleepily.

“That’d be amazing, I’m _exhausted_.”

Hongjoong smiles, sweet and genuine and a bit sleepy, too, as he leads them back out into his bedroom. “Yeah, me too.”

Hongjoong strips the duvet off of the bed before replacing it with a fresh one from his closet, and Seonghwa is quietly thankful. They pile in together, and while there’s more than enough space for them all to spread out a bit more, somehow Hongjoong ends up tucked between Seonghwa and Yeosang.

But they certainly don’t mind. Yeosang is well on his way to passing out against Hongjoong’s shoulder anyways, so Seonghwa slings an arm over Hongjoong’s waist to hold Yeosang’s hand as he falls asleep.

“Thanks for inviting us over, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa whispers into the dark of the room. 

“I should be thanking you two, I thought tonight was going to be _awful_ . You have no idea how boring those events are,” Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa chuckles. He and Yeosang _do_ in fact know how awfully boring those types of events are—they certainly attend enough of them.

“Really, I’m glad I met you two tonight,” Hongjoong says, and it’s just this side of too tender, clenching at Seonghwa’s heart.

“Me too,” Yeosang mumbles against Hongjoong’s shoulder, barely intelligible with how heavy the sleep is in his voice. Seonghwa squeezes his hand.

_I’m glad we didn’t rob you_ , Seonghwa thinks, but decidedly does not say. He murmurs “Goodnight,” instead, before sleep takes him a few moments later.

  


* * *

  


When Seonghwa wakes up, Yeosang is already awake and messing around on his phone at Hongjoong’s other side. He’s sleep rumpled, eyes smudged a little dark from not taking his makeup off, and still somehow as handsome as ever.

Hongjoong is still blissfully passed out between them, and they leave him be as they carefully untangle themselves from the bed to redress. Only after does Seonghwa shake his shoulder gently.

“Hey, Hongjoong, we have to head out,” He says, voice low.

Hongjoong startles at that, sitting up with eyes bleary and hair a charming mess. His words are still slurred with sleep. “You’re going? Shit, sorry, I would’ve cooked or something—”

“No that’s alright, you don’t have to get up,” Seonghwa quiets him, patting gently at his shoulder. Hongjoong’s stories of working on music till odd hours of the morning flash through Seonghwa’s head—this man needs all the rest he can get. “I’ll—I’ll leave our numbers on the kitchen counter, call us or something, alright?”

It’s probably kind of stupid, trying to keep in contact, but Yeosang nods his head in assent.

“Oh, alright,” Hongjoong says, sleepy smile on his face. His eyes are half closed already.

“Bye, Hongjoong,” Yeosang coos, pushing hair out of Hongjoong’s face sweetly.

They do just as Seonghwa said, finding a scrap of paper to scrawl their names and phone numbers on, like they’re kids passing notes. They don’t even deign to snoop around Hongjoong’s things while he sleeps peacefully in his room… it’s an obvious chance to do what they didn’t the night before, but truly neither of them feel even remotely up to it.

They leave, all of Hongjoong’s belongings staying safely in his condo. Seonghwa feels for the first time as though something had been stolen from them, instead.

**Author's Note:**

> cancelling plans is okay. robbing rich men with your twink boyfriend is okay. accidentally getting charmed by the guy you’re supposed to rob is okay. taking him and your boyfriend to bed is okay. do what you need to cope.
> 
> LOL anyways hope you enjoyed!!!! this was fun to write and i hope it was a worthy contribution to the (tragically barren) seongjoongsang tag! it was a little daunting because i’ve never written a threesome before but i hope it was still enjoyable!
> 
> unrelated fun fact: i honest to god decided who topped in this fic by flipping a coin
> 
> comments always appreciated, and you can also find me and yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/himbohwa) (i’m on priv but feel free to req!) or [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/himbohwa)!
> 
> thanks again for reading! <3


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